


Happy Cows Come From Pegasus Pastures

by Cottontail



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Animals, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-09
Updated: 2011-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-17 19:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottontail/pseuds/Cottontail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I didn’t get a beta on this because it’s so short and it’s so silly. But if there are any mistakes feel free to point them out to me and I will edit fast. Also, I’m not a dairy farmer so I don’t know the actual inner workings of cow grazing and feeding and all that, except what I read on the internets.<br/>Original posted at LJ: <a href="http://cottontail.livejournal.com/155055.html">Happy Cows Come From Pegasus Pastures</a></p>
    </blockquote>





	Happy Cows Come From Pegasus Pastures

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t get a beta on this because it’s so short and it’s so silly. But if there are any mistakes feel free to point them out to me and I will edit fast. Also, I’m not a dairy farmer so I don’t know the actual inner workings of cow grazing and feeding and all that, except what I read on the internets.  
> Original posted at LJ: [Happy Cows Come From Pegasus Pastures](http://cottontail.livejournal.com/155055.html)

The grass in the new pasture was fresh and much more plentiful than the pasture across the highway. John munched slowly, savoring the sweet tangy green flavors mixed with the occasional dandelion.

“I saw that crop plane out this way the other day. They better not have dusted this area. That farmer knows I’m allergic to pesticides, my stomach can’t handle it,” Rodney groused nearby.

John tilted his head slightly, flicking one black ear at an annoying fly. “Rodney, the grass is fine. All natural, not a hint of pesticides. Besides, you have like four stomachs, I’ve seen you digest tin cans. You better hurry before Ronon gets all the dandelions.”

Rodney snorted, lifted his head and glanced over at Ronon. He was a ways down the pasture, working through a swath of grass like the prize bull he was. Rodney sniffed at the air, his impressive horns gleamed for a moment beneath the bright sun. “Hmm.” He ducked his head and began munching not far from John’s square of grassy patch.

For some time he and Rodney chewed in companionable silence, working their way down the gentle slope of the hill, towards Ronon. A few stray clouds passed in front of the sun and John took advantage of the shade, settling down in the warm grassy field, folding his legs beneath him. He watched Rodney graze into Ronon’s path. Rodney had a dark brown hide, which was reddish in just the right sunlight. John admired his strong neck and the round curve of his rump.

Ronon was chewing his cud and eyeing Rodney. “Hey, I hear Teyla is with calf.”

Rodney perked up and John lifted his head, snorting slightly. “She is? Who’s the bull that got her?”

“That guy from her old herd. The one they sold off to the Angus farms.” Ronon’s tail swished back and forth and he stomped a hoof threateningly when Rodney approached a delicate spread of dandelions.

Bad things happened on Angus farms. John had been lucky enough to escape years ago when farmer O’Neill drafted him for stud duty here in Pegasus pastures. Pegasus cows were prime dairy producers and John had been happy since the day he’d unloaded from the cattle car.

Here he’d come to find friends in Ronon, Rodney, Radek, Lorne and that new bull from Canada, Chuck-roast. Sometimes they got to hang out with the cows; Teyla, Jennifer, Cadman, Sam and Lizzie were a few of the regulars.

“Huh,” Rodney snorted and made his way over towards John. “I saw Lizzie the other day. She said there’s been talk of putting bells on us. Can you imagine that? Bells! Just what we need out here to break the peace and tranquility, a bunch of stupid bells clanking every time we take a step.”

John lolled his head a bit in consideration. “Sounds kind of lame.”

“Lame? It’s ridiculous. I for one will be sure to clank as much as possible at all hours, just irritate the farmhands.”

“Rodney, you can’t keep pissing off the farmhands. You kicked farmer Kavanagh the other day!” John groaned. “They’ll castrate you, or sell you off for beef.”

“Yeah,” Ronon snorffled, scratching his left horn along the ground.

“Oh please, like you didn’t try to start a stampede when farmer Kolya was getting ready to brand you?”

“Yeah,” Ronon snorted again, slapping his tail against his thigh then bowing his head down to the dandelions.

“That was different,” John said.

“How was that different? Besides, I’m sure it was that Kavanagh freak that tipped me over the other night when I was sleeping.”

John tried not to snort at the memory. He’d woken up to Rodney’s outraged bellow and the distant giggling of some idiot kids. There was the screech of tractor tires as they got out of there before John could sufficiently wake up enough and charge at them.

John stood and made his way over to Rodney, making sure to step around a fresh dung patty. He nudged gently with a horn at Rodney’s upper flank. “Sorry, buddy. I’ll get them next time it happens.”

Rodney’s ear-tag fluttered in the gentle breeze, and he tilted his head towards John in return. “He’s such a moron. Everyone knows you don’t tip bulls.” Rodney had beautiful long lashes framing big round eyes. John always got a warm happy feeling in the general area of his lower stomach chambers when he gazed into Rodney’s eyes.

The day wound down to evening and the sun sank towards the horizon.

John saw the cows gathering in the left field pasture for early dinner. “Let’s go get some feed,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Ronon agreed.

As the three bulls made their way back towards the main farmhouse, a car passing by on the distant highway honked. A guy in a baseball cap stuck his head out the window and mooed.

Rodney sighed heavily in irritation. “Just once I’d like to gore one of those idiots.”

“I’ll get one of them for you someday,” John promised with a determined snort.

Rodney gently bumped a shoulder against John as they walked. “Let’s sleep together behind the barn tonight.”

“Okay,” John immediately agreed, his lower stomach making a small happy flopping motion. “Tomorrow we can stand out closer to the highway and I’ll charge at the cars when they honk.”

“Really?” Rodney’s ears perked up a bit.

“Sure, buddy.”

/end


End file.
